Old Jerusalem Boxes
Silvia brings to mind the time I’d choose to buy my place
Smiles an awkward smile and sadly rubs it in my face
She says not one more word about our fighting long ago
She lets the awkward smile remind me that she told me so
Together we can fill the blanks of our lives growing meaningless
There’s fewer words to tell of love and fewer viewpoints to discuss
Junk lines up in boxes in the hall and awaits the big move
I myself could use a sense of fresh air and a change of mood
But, hey, it’s me we’re talking about here
I don’t change that much
I need constant pricking, some beating, some kicking
To feel my life as such
And hey, it’s us (or maybe not, it’s you and me)
We don’t change, do we?
We need constant pricking, mutual beating and kicking
To be happy
I can’t shake the fear for love when I hear the word “endless”
It’s hearing death’s bell toll, it isn’t true, it is the end of this
We’ll last what we’ll last and I may grow old, but I’m repent-less
I’ll be good and I’ll be bad, but I’ll be damned if I play this
Silvia waits outside, I have to talk to someone briefly
I need someone’s help, I’m new to this, this is new to me
There’s no doubt in my mind about the path I shouldn’t lead
But it takes some time to figure out what is it that one truly needs
Sure, things are serious when it gets strange to love your mother
Once now and for all, I don’t mean to find in you another
You’re yourself and I’m for you and you for me a lover
You’ll be fine with her, you know, she’s been friends with all the others
The boxes line up in the hallway
But that don’t change me much
I’m as childish as I’ll be, as scruffy and happy
To have my life as such
Silvia smiles with motherly kindness
She’s oblivious
To the mess in the hallway and the mess that I’ve always
Brought down on us
